


Plans for the Weekend

by NotASpaceAlien



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5182556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASpaceAlien/pseuds/NotASpaceAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley had plans for his Friday night before the Antichrist rudely interrupted them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plans for the Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/126973063285/prompt-what-where-aziraphale-and-crowley-doing

Eleven years (and one day) ago

Adam Young and Warlock Dowling were, in fact, born on a Friday.*

* * *

*As they say,  _gotta get down on Friday_ , and down is generally the direction in which things go when they go to hell in a hand-basket.

* * *

Aziraphale was at his shop on Thursdays.  The hours the shop was open on this particular Thursday** were from 6AM-7AM, an hour during lunch, and then for thirty minutes sometime in the afternoon.

**It was the third Thursday of the month.  On the other Thursdays of the month, the shop was only open from 8AM-8:30AM and an hour during lunch, except for the last Thursday of the month, on which the store was closed, unless it was one of the exceptions, being that every third month he took the opportunity to instead close the store on the third Thursday of the month and have the shop open an hour during lunch and from 8AM-8:30AM on the last Thursday of the month, except for when there was a holiday and he moved the schedule for Thursday’s hours to Wednesday, and kept the shop closed on Tuesday to compensate.

* * *

Crowley on the other hand, usually spent Thursdays at the gym.  He was not exercising–he didn’t need to, because he could will his corporation into whatever shape he wanted–but the gym was an excellent place for temptation, especially for Sloth, Lust, and Envy.  


 _You don’t need to do_ that _many reps today.  You’ve been good this week.  In fact, there’s not much use in coming tomorrow either.  You could watch that movie you’ve rented._

_Isn’t that girl over there hot?  Look at that outfit she’s wearing.  Surely the wife wouldn’t realize if you stayed a bit longer today._

_Look at those muscles.  How much does someone even need to work out to look like that?  It doesn’t seem fair._

Crowley was very good at pretending to be working out; he simply conjured a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and walked around breathing heavily and with a towel over his shoulder, carrying a bottle of water and ruining other people’s workouts in petty little ways.  He ended his non-workout with a shower, to perhaps inspire envy in other ways, then drove the Bentley home and immediately took another shower.  He didn’t technically _need_  a shower, but it had positive psychological effects.

He combed his wet hair out of his face and looked at himself in the mirror, staring into his own yellow eyes, and decided that this weekend he would do _it._

He was going to ask Aziraphale if he wanted to change the terms of the Arrangement.  They had been following the same arrangement for almost a thousand years now, and it had proven pretty successful.  He wasn’t sure if Aziraphale would go for what he was proposing, so he was not getting his hopes up, but he would never know what Aziraphale’s answer would be unless he asked.

He clicked on his tapedeck; normally he would take the opportunity to listen to something other than Queen, but he wanted to get himself pumped up.

It only made sense for them to start spending more time together.  There were times when they went decades without seeing each other; _that_  wasn’t very conducive to a working relationship, was it?  It only made sense to–perhaps set regular intervals at which they could meet to catch up.  They could do it at the Ritz, or even pick a new restaurant each time to explore all the different cuisines humans had invented.  It was something they agreed on–humans made very good cuisine, better than either of them could.

And maybe, if that worked out, they could add an amendment detailing the conditions under which they could share living spaces.  It would be economical to share a flat.  Aziraphale could find a better spot for his bookshop, where fewer people would try to buy his books perhaps, and Crowley could start tempting a new group of people.

He wasn’t going to propose getting–physical, not unless Aziraphale wanted it, maybe, because he would be happy with just being near Aziraphale and didn’t _need_  it, but if the angel-

He was getting ahead of himself.

He checked his watch on the nightstand.  If he went to sleep now, he’d have time to get plenty of rest before Aziraphale’s shop opened tomorrow***, and he could go talk to Aziraphale early in the morning before his nerve wore off.

* * *

***Crowley knew that Aziraphale’s shop opened at 7:20 on Fridays, but also remembered that tomorrow would be the third Friday of the month, which meant he would not be there until 9:00 exactly, and would not open the doors until 9:10, and Crowley only had a narrow window to get in before the angel closed the shop again at 9:30, at which point Crowley would need to wait until 2pm for the shop to re-open.  This was commendable recall, but he unfortunately had forgotten to take into account that Aziraphale had opened the shop early on that Monday, as he did every other Monday, and this was the bi-weekly occurrence of him opening late on Friday to balance out his hours (with the alternating weeks having him open late on Thursday instead).

* * *

“ _Say the word, your wish is my command.  Ooh love, ooh CROWLEY!”_  


Crowley jumped, sending his watch flying.  “Ah! Y-yes, lord?”

“ _CROWLEY, THERE IS A VERY IMPORTANT JOB FOR YOU TO DO TONIGHT.”_  


“Oh, yes-of course, lord, what is it?”  


“ _YOU ARE TO MEET THE DUKES HASTUR AND LIGUR-”_ Crowley had to suppress the groan that welled up inside of him upon hearing that, and then the squeal of surprise as the knowledge of where to meet them forced its way into his head directly.  


A few moments later, his mind racing in a completely different direction as before, he left the flat.  He did not have a good feeling.  He drove in circles around Soho for a few minutes, which turned into a few hours without him noticing, in an attempt to quell his anxiety.

Finally, he set off towards the graveyard, hoping that this important job could be both important and quick, because he wanted to get a full night’s sleep tonight for whatever may happen tomorrow.


End file.
